


It's A Nickname

by waitineedaname



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Gender Identity, References to Transitioning, TAZ Pride Week, Trans Male Character, i guess, idk what to tag this as but Duck is trans and a bear so help me god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitineedaname/pseuds/waitineedaname
Summary: Things were changing without his say, so he took control over the one thing he could.He stole the scissors from his mother’s room when she was out at the store and stood on a stool in front of the mirror. He gathered his long, dark curls in his hand andsnip snip snip, they all fell to the floor. He stared into the mirror and found a determined child staring back at him. It was messy and uneven, but it made him smile.





	It's A Nickname

**Author's Note:**

> listn this headcanon started bc i wanted to spite transphobic north carolina politician Buck Newton but then it got away from me and it's Basically Canon in my heart
> 
> written for day 3 of taz pride week: sexuality/gender

Duck Newton hadn’t always been called Duck. He had another name when he was little, something dainty and feminine that always made him feel sick. It didn’t fit him at all, the kind of name you’d hear attached to a ballerina or something, not the kid he was, in muddy jeans running around in the field behind his house. 

He was an introverted child. He didn’t join the packs of kids on the playground whenever recess was let out. He preferred to poke around in the woods just at the boundary of the playground until his teachers yelled at him - that name that made his stomach churn, though he did not have the vocabulary to explain why. Even so, he had a few friends here and there.

It was one of those friends that gave him his nickname. He was eleven and rebellious and uncomfortable in his skin. People would say that’s normal for every adolescent, but somehow he knew it was different. Things were changing without his say, so he took control over the one thing he could.

He stole the scissors from his mother’s room when she was out at the store and stood on a stool in front of the mirror. He gathered his long, dark curls in his hand and _snip snip snip_ , they all fell to the floor. He stared into the mirror and found a determined child staring back at him. It was messy and uneven, but it made him smile.

When he walked into class the next day, whispers followed him, and his friend - a lanky boy named Cole - stared at him as he sat down. Cole reached over with a boldness only children possess and ruffled the new haircut. Then he sat back and grinned.

“Y’look cool.” He declared. He pointed to the way the hair flipped up at the back of his neck, unused to being so short. “Kinda looks like a duck’s tail.”

Nicknames spread fast when there are only sixty people in your whole middle school. Soon, everyone was calling him Duck, even more than they called him his birth name. Normally, he’d be annoyed by a nickname like that - it’s so close to teasing, isn’t it? - but something about it relieved the tightness in his chest. 

He started to put things together in high school. Kepler was secluded, certainly, but the information was there if you knew where to look. It started to make sense why he hated his name, why he wanted to throw up when people called him “miss”, why he felt uncomfortable in his own skin.

High school is a time to figure out your identity. At this point, his mother had given up trying to force him into dresses, so he wore the baggiest clothes he owned. He forced his voice into a lower octave. He memorized the last names of all his classmates and spoke up before new teachers could call “Newton, -----”, telling them to call him “Duck Newton, it’s a nickname.” It was easier to tell them that than explain his real reasons. He didn’t go to prom, didn’t want to choose between suffering in a dress or getting stares for wearing a suit. He didn’t even go to graduation, asking them to send his diploma to his house instead of having to hear that fucking name called in front of everyone.

Duck kind of dropped off the map after high school. He went to a community college in another county, just far enough away to be able to avoid most people he knew. He told his professors and employers his name was “Duck Newton, it’s a nickname”; at this point, it was a knee jerk response. He found what resources he could. He found a therapist that understood. He found a doctor that would prescribe him testosterone. Minerva appeared during his first year out there and despite how much he dreaded her visits, it was a relief that she never failed to greet him with a joyous “Duck Newton!”

When he finally returned to Kepler, he was applying for a position with the forestry service with the beginnings of a beard on his cheeks. They didn’t recognize him at first, but as soon as they did, he was greeted with cheerful welcome backs. It was a couple months before he came out to them officially, explaining his pronouns and why he’d really rather they not call him by the name on his application. If any of them had a problem with it, they didn’t make it known to him; he was already one of their most dedicated rangers, they weren’t about to turn him away because of something as little as this.

He told his mom soon after. She didn’t understand - it was such a personal thing, no one could completely understand if they had not been through it themselves - but she accepted it. She told him she should’ve seen it coming, but he shrugged. He couldn’t blame her.

Just as it had in middle school, word traveled quickly. Kepler may have been a small town, but it was a kind one. Even if a few of his former classmates were confused, they knew he was still the Duck they’d known since they were little. It wasn’t long before his landlord was calling him Mr. Newton and the campers he came across in the forest referred to him as sir.

If he had to admit it, he’d been worried coming back to Kepler. Everyone knew each other in town; that was a lot of people’s minds to change. But everyone he came across was kind. When he used the vacation time he’d stockpiled to take time off to get his top surgery, his neighbors offered to pick up his groceries and his work encouraged him to stay in the ranger station for a couple weeks instead of walking the trails until he was fully recovered. For the first time… ever, really, he felt comfortable in his skin.

A few things never changed, though. Without fail, he always introduced himself with the same phrase: District Ranger Duck Newton, it’s a nickname. Some habits were hard to break.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this proofread by several people to make sure I wasn't up to any kind of cis bullshit but if anything is inaccurate or insensitive, let me know and I'll try to fix it!


End file.
